The Salmon Swam Upstream
by Grand Phoenix
Summary: An unfortunate event brings back the past in full force, and Teru faces a dilemma she may not be able to get out of. (Only the lies can save you.) [Post-vanguard]


_A/N: After five months since it first aired, I finally finished watching Zenkoku-hen last night, yay! I've also caught up on Shinohayu and read some of Biyori/BG (which I called 'G' in _But the Abyss Tells No Lies_, blah)._

_Unfortunately, this still does not sate my curiosity about the bigger (and, if you know me, the very obvious) questions in the series, and this makes me wish _Saki_ followed a weekly release rather than the bi-weekly/monthly schedule a'la Shounen Jump. But, alas, you can't always get what you want._

_On the bright side, it gives me ample opportunity to explore every goddamn facet of Miyanaga Teru that I can think of, because I find her to be a very interesting enigma. In_ The Mirage That Refuses to Disappear _I said__ that she is a character you either love or hate, but that was because it was set...sometime before the Achiga anime was announced, if memory serves me right. And while we know a little bit more who she is, there are many things about her that we don't know. This is the main reason why I write in the fandom: for potential character development and exploration, and why you'll rarely, if ever, see me write something purely about the mahjong aspects. (I don't understand it at all, and if there is mahjong in my stories it'll strictly follow what's shown in the series. Oh, I wish this was a fantasy instead of a sports story! XD)._

_This follows up on the fish theme that was in _But the Abyss Tells No Lies._ I also like to dedicate this to fellow author _JustLikeYouImagined_ and the good folk at Animesuki who are part of the Tanoshii Association group.  
_

* * *

**The Salmon Swam Upstream**

* * *

_"To tell you the truth, I've told so many lies, it's all a blur."  
"Well, you know, sometimes you have to lie about stuff. To keep yourself going, because you're afraid. Or to protect someone else, so they don't get hurt. Sometimes, even the things that everyone in the whole world thinks are true turn out to be lies. At the end of the day, though, it's not the lie that matters, but what you do after you tell it. Work hard enough, and you can make it true."_

- Hope Estheim to Oerba Dia Vanille, _Final Fantasy XIII_

* * *

Onjouji Toki stumbled over her feet and fell, and the sound of her body hitting the floor was louder and shriller than all the seas and gulls in the world.

Teru's heart skipped a beat for a second, but it lasted an eternity.

Then the stage fell away and was gone, and so too were Hanada Kirame and Matsumi Kuro. The lights blazing above the mahjong table were replaced with the glare of a late afternoon sun and the faded blue of the sky. Somewhere close by, birds were cawing raucously. The blood roaring in her ears turned to a steady burble of water, and in the water were fish with fins that looked suspiciously like feathery, ethereal wings.

The girl was on the ground, and she was not Toki. She was young, dear, with hair the color of straw bleached white from the sun and eyes as stark and red as the leaves in autumn.

They were unfocused.

Her lips parted, forming words Teru could not understand. A chill wind blew.

Drawing in a breath, the shadows surrounding her closed in—shuffling, whispering, weaving in and out, in and out. The shadows spoke, and Teru did not, would not, understand.

She ran toward her, arms flailing, feet kicking up dust and grass. Blindly she struck at a shadow and her arm went through it, and it lurched back with a startled, static-filled cry. The shadow behind the girl paused, hesitant, but Teru did not care. She dropped to her knees and shook the little one. "Hey! Hey! What's wrong?"

The girl blinked at her, a sleepy, rheumy stare that gripped Teru by the spine and an instant's touch froze it solid. Her mouth moved, spilling forth glossolalia. A hand reached out and grasped at her sleeve. "Don't say that!" Teru said, forcing the words out from the tightness in her throat. "You're going to be fine! You can get up, right? I've got you, okay? Don't move. I've got you."

But the girl shook her head, and it was a minute, feeble gesture. "You're in no condition to get up on your own. C'mon, don't fight with me. Okay? Let me help you."

Then a darkness fell over them and something warm like _THE HOSPITAL OH GOD NO IT'S BURNING DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN SOMEONE HELP_ a fire squeezed her shoulder; and among the garbled, mangled snowy noise she heard a single word: "TERU."

"I said I got her, Saki! G-Go and get mom and dad! Anyone! I'm staying with her!" Teru threw the person off her and brushed the hair from the girl's eyes. "'S alright. Hang in there. We're gonna call the hospital and everything's gonna go back to normal. I'll take you out to the pier again and we can watch the fish or...or go up into the mountains! Yeah! I hear the salmon swim upstream this time of year. You've never seen it before but believe me, it's something else! You'd like that, right?"

The girl closed her eyes. Her hand went limp and dragged down her arm.

Teru's breath hitched. "Hey," she shook the girl hard. "Hey…wake up." She shook harder, but there was no response.

Somewhere a heart was racing. Sweat beaded her brow. She clenched her teeth.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up, dammit! Stay with me!" Another shadow loomed suddenly to her fore, diving down upon them like a hawk. A void shaped like a mouth opened wide, full of static and broken Kanji characters. Teru reared up and lashed out at it, forcing it to draw back with a mangled scream. "No, don't touch her! Let the paramedics handle her when they get here! They'll take care of her and then everything will be back to normal! I know it will!"

"TERU."

"Of course we'll see her again, Saki! She's a strong girl, remember? She's not going to let some stupid disease get in the way. She still has to grow up and open her own aquarium for all of us to enjoy!" Her nails dug into the girl's shoulders. "So wake up, dammit! WAKE UP! WAKE UP—!"

Then, without warning, she was hauled to her feet and spun around; and for the briefest of moments, she thought she was looking into a face quite like her own, only older and sharper and…angrier?

_Mom…?_

The sound of that hand crashing against her cheek was like a thunderclap. Miyanaga Teru slammed into the ground, and when she blinked she was staring up at not the sun but the lights bearing down on the mahjong table. The shadows were nowhere to be found, for in their places were Kirame and Kuro standing on either side of her, and their faces were both fearful and confused.

In between them was Sumire, and her face was alight with the power of an encroaching storm. Her arm dropped to her side. "Have you come back to us, Teru?" she asked dully.

Teru touched her cheek and winced as jolts of electricity ran marathons up and down her jaw. Her eyes were wide and shining. She looked at Sumire as if she were seeing her for the very first time.

"What's wrong with her?" said a new voice, and Sumire didn't have to look behind her to know Shimizudani Ryuuka was kneeling next to Toki, cradling her head on her lap. She also knew she wasn't referring to her friend. "Just now…it was like she lost her mind!"

"This has nothing to do with you," Sumire said, coldly, and nodded imperiously at Toki's limp body. "Worry about _her_, and stay out of this." Then she whirled on Kirame and Kuro and leveled them a hard stare. "That goes for the both of you." It was a challenge that spoke volumes, and the two younger girls stayed where they were and kept silent.

Sumire held out her hand to Teru. "Get up. We're leaving."

Teru did not respond.

"The match is over, and I have to be here for the next game in a few minutes. Come on."

Still, Teru said nothing. She glanced at the mahjong table, and then at her shaking hand.

"Teru!"

She bowed her head, hiding her eyes beneath a canopy of forelocks, and in her shadow there was only a sliver of clenched teeth. Her mouth moved.

Sumire's upper lip curled back. She snatched Teru by the arm and hauled her up onto her feet. Then she was running and pushing past the paramedics that burst into the chamber with their stretcher, uncaring of their surprised shouts and terse warnings.

* * *

As they were loading Toki onto the stretcher, Kirame turned to Kuro. "What did she say?" she asked. "I heard something, but it was too low for me to make out."

Kuro swallowed thickly. Her expression was drawn and pale, and Kirame wondered if the game they had just played—a game against an older girl who was lauded as both Champion and Demon, admired and feared by all of Japan—had done more than shake her to her core. Finally, in a tight voice, "She said, 'I hate mahjong. It's taken everything away from me.'"

* * *

The halls were gliding past them, watercolor-bright and short-lived. Her heart rattled in her chest and the blood roared in the canals of her ears, but above all that and the footsteps fighting to keep up with Sumire's long, hurried strides the fluorescent lights buzzed tonelessly, like dragonflies flitting in the shallows of an algae-ridden pond. There was only the sound of that unending static.

Her eyes snapped back to the front, past Sumire's back, as they came upon Awai standing smack in the middle of the hallway; Seiko and Takami were peering out from the doorway. A choked sound escaped Teru before she could do anything to stop it, and it was a very garbled sound that she couldn't quite pinpoint what was behind it. Frustration? Resignation? Despair? Or maybe, in the back of her mind, where the True Teru screamed obscenities for her weakness and threw herself against the walled recesses of all things dark and secret and buried, it was fear?

Sumire must have heard her, or maybe she didn't. She only tugged harder and quickened her pace.

"Terry!" said Awai. "What happened? Are you alright? You looked like you saw a ghost—"

"_Not now_, Awai," Sumire growled, and they flew past her.

"But—!" That was all she could get out, for in their hurry Teru caught a glimpse of Seiko pulling the girl into the room by the back of her collar, and she said something that, though Teru couldn't discern, made her wide-eyed and gesticulate wildly and angrily. "I don't care! I'll make it my damn business!" Awai shouted. "Rewind the footage and _you tell me_ there's nothing wrong with that image because I know—"

They turned a corner, and whatever else she said was cut off as Teru was flung bodily forward. She smacked into a wall, saw her reflection in the window, and took in the Tokyo high rise. Took in the startled little demon whose hands were braced against the pane as if it would fall away and gravity might drag her to her doom.

Or the calm surface of the sea, where the fish swam and the dead slept.

It was all for a second. Then she was spun around and the wall shook as her back slammed up against it. The grip on her shoulders was like rigor mortis, but the shine in Sumire's eyes were bright, much too bright for her to look into directly, but Teru was cornered, trapped, and she had no choice but to gaze deep into the abyss.

"You need," Sumire said, "to get your shit _together_. I don't care how you do it. Stop putting it off and go talk to _Saki_. It doesn't have to be right now, but it needs to be done _soon_—and by 'soon' I don't mean after the tournament. I don't mean next month, next year, or never. You do it _soon_, or your memories are going to eat you _alive_. Do you understand, Teru?"

She glared. "You're not my mother."

"Do you?" She shook her roughly.

"What happened out there was none of your concern."

"It became my concern when you told me about your family. The blood that you denied! The sister that you disowned! If you were going to be this difficult, you shouldn't have told me in the first place!"

"I am not being difficult!" Teru took Sumire's wrists in both hands and moved to throw them off.

She was shoved back again, and the force of it rattled the window. "Have you ever wondered how Saki feels about you? All the lying, all the media pandering, the false niceties—have you ever stopped to think that what you're doing is only making things worse for the both of you?"

"All the training regimens in the world won't be enough to make me reconsider," said Teru. "She doesn't understand."

"She's not stupid, Teru! She knows damn well what's going on, and she's not going to stop until every school, devil, and demon is exterminated and she's sitting across from you at the table!"

"She's pressing her luck. Someone of her caliber—a _demon_, as you so put it—would be wise not to exploit it."

"You're no better! I heard what you said back there, and don't even try to make up some paltry excuse. The sheep will follow the herd and eat whatever's in your hand. They are far too proud and far too blind to see where their 'shepherd' is taking them."

"They don't need to know what's going on," said Teru. "My personal life, and the lives of my family, is none of their business, and if I have to deceive the public, wear a mask and put on false airs to get them out of my hair, then it's all for the best."

"So what will you do after the Nationals? Say you don't listen to me and we cinch the Championship title. Are you just going to keep running away and playing the cheerful git who spouts generic ambitious one-liners when you throw your lot in with the big leagues?"

Teru opened her mouth.

"No, seriously," said Sumire, stopping her. "Think about it. What in all the nine hells are you going to do?"

"Let me _speak—_"

"No, I won't. And you know why? You want to know why? Because you don't have a _fucking clue_. You don't know where to start. And why bother? The world you fabricated took years to create, and it's enough, right? Very much so, I should like to say! So why go through all the trouble to make another for the sheep to move to and graze on when you're perfectly content with the way things are?"

"I didn't have a choice—"

"Yes, you did!" Sumire shouted. "And you still do! You always have a choice! We never know what the results of that choice might be, but we make do with it anyway! Right and wrong has no place in our decisions until after it's been made!"

"And what," said Teru, "do you think of my choice?"

"I think you're a goddamn idiot! And if _she_ were still here, I bet she would say the same thing!"

"No, she wouldn't!"

"Then what? Do you think her a fool?"

Teru's eyes widened. "No!" she gasped. "I would never think of her as such!"

"So what about Saki? What about yourself?"

Teru said nothing. All the color drained from her face, and the light in her eyes became subdued and far away.

Something deep inside Sumire ached, and it showed in the collapse of that tough countenance. She sighed and let go of Teru, stepping away. "Forgive me, Teru. That was low of me. I didn't mean for it to—"

"It's fine," she said, and, with great effort, pushed herself off the wall. She walked past Sumire, whose eyes were ever-present on her back, and stopped at the door. Her hand rested on the knob. "But you're right. I don't know what I'm even doing anymore."

"These things take time," said Sumire. "It's been how many years since, you know…."

"It feels like hell." The knob twisted in her grasp, the resounding click loud amidst the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. Mad laughter bubbled in her throat, and Teru smothered it before it could fully form. "It still does, and I don't think I'm ever going to get out."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, but I do." She pushed it open but did not move to leave. "I know I'm being dramatic, but you don't know what it feels like. You don't know what it's like having a part of you ripped away right before your very eyes and watch it wither to nothing."

"It doesn't have to be like this. You can still make amends."

Teru raised a shoulder in a sort of half-shrug. "Yeah…I could do that. I could make the pain go away. But no matter what I do or what I say, it won't bring my family back." She turned around, and Sumire beheld a small, strained smile that looked too cruel to belong on the face of a young girl. "So why should I change the way things are now? No one knows about me. No one knows who Saki is, nor do they care that she shares the same last name. Let it stay that way."

"And what if I tell?" Sumire asked, and her fists clenched at her sides. "That one woman who's up-to-date reports on the Inter-High…Nishida's her name. She's always looking for that one scoop. Surely she'd be eager to learn who the _real_ Champion is."

"You won't," said Teru, her smile turning into a neutral frown, "because you and I know you care about me too much to destroy everything we've built." She left the room and Sumire followed, simmering and pondering an uncertain future.

* * *

The announcement for the sergeant match was called, and Sumire went ahead to find the stage. She gave one last, searching glance at Teru, and then she was off.

Teru didn't think too much of it, despite her conscience fretting and railing that she really was going to tell Nishida Junko. The shepherd, the older sister, the fake, the liar—

_She won't. As much as she wants to, she won't breathe a word. When Sumire is entrusted to keep a secret, she will hold onto it and never let it go. That's just how she is._

She entered the dressing room.

"Terrrry!" Her arms reflexively opened and caught Awai head-on, pitting all her weight to her feet to keep from being knocked over. The younger girl crushed her in a massive hug, then pulled back and looked worryingly up at her. "Terry, are you okay? What happened?"

"Yeah, what was that about?" Seiko asked. She moved the cup of tea in her hands in little, jerky circles. "You nearly took Shimizudani's face off!"

Teru blinked. "I did?"

"You pushed away Kuro, too," said Takami. "Kirame called your name and moved to pull you off, but…the look in your eyes…." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You really were like a tiger out there…."

"Oh." Teru registered this information and suppressed a shiver. The media would be waiting for the coming game's players to make their appearance, and when they saw Sumire they would be all over her and they would bomb her with countless questions. They would not leave her alone until she was through the doors leading to the mahjong table. They may even jump Senriyama's sergeant—what was her name…Nijou Izumi, that was it—and pepper her relentlessly. They would not let go of the bit until they were satisfied, and a worm of pure, unbridled hate slithered in the pit of her stomach.

_They'll never leave them alone._

_Dammit, this is all my fault…._

"Miyanaga?" Seiko asked, a slight tremble in her voice. Takami shrank back, head ducked between raised shoulders.

"Terry?" Awai implored. "What's wrong?"

The anger was hot and bright, and Teru could see the subtle gesture of fear in their posture and words. She looked down at Awai, into eyes full of child-like love and confusion, and like an avalanche it all fell away.

_She used to look at me like that, too, whenever something was bothering me._

_That face, those eyes, that hair._

_…Why aren't you here? It's not the same._

_But I know why._

_You're ashamed of me…aren't you?_

"I'm sorry."

"Eh?"

Teru caught herself. She hadn't meant to say it out loud. "I'm sorry," she said again, shaking her head. "For making you all worry. What happened back there…I don't know what came over me. It just…." She shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of what to say.

"Terry," Awai said, tentatively. "Did you know someone…who was like Onjouji Toki?"

"Ah! Awai," Takami began. "I don't think you should—"

"Yes," Teru told Awai, gently. Bravely, for the memories rose unbidden and the tightness in her throat threatened to smother her. "I did. A long time ago." _But she's gone now. Perhaps forever. After all I've said and done, I don't think she'll want anything more to do with me._

_And if I could, I wouldn't want anything more to do with me, either._

"'m sorry, Terry," Awai said, and scuffed a foot abashedly against the floor.

Teru ruffled her hair, bringing out a tiny smile out of her. "No, don't be."

Seiko coughed politely. "I, uh, guess you don't want to see the footage, then? I mean, if you want proof we can…." She grimaced and blushed, embarrassed.

Teru shook her head. "I believe you." _I don't want to see what I've done, anyway._ "The match should be starting any minute now." She looked at the television. The sergeants were approaching the table, flipping tiles to determine which seat they would take and who would start as dealer. It was as if the scene she had made had never happened. _I wonder if she's alright. Onjouji Toki...what was going through her mind, at that moment?_

_Everyone must think I'm crazy._

_Maybe I am…._

"You guys must be hungry," she lied. "I have some cash on me."

"Yes!" Awai gushed, grinning up at her. "I could go for some sugar right about now!"

"I am a little peckish, to be honest," said Seiko, and scratched at her stomach. "Could go for something right now, if you're not in too much of a hurry."

Takami nodded. "Some more tea would be nice. I used the last of the tea bags to make this."

"Alright," Teru said. "I'll be sure to get them if there are any. Not that it matters much to you, does it, Awai?" She tapped the girl's brow with her knuckles.

Her cheeks colored, and Teru was reminded of the stinging sensation that lingered ghost-like on the edge of her memory. "Nope!"

_Yes…Just like her._

"Fill me in when I get back, okay? I won't be long."

Seiko nodded. "Will do, Miyanaga."

So Teru left, and when she deemed was far away from both the room and the gaggle of reporters patrolling the halls, she sighed and rubbed her temples. "I can't wait 'til this is all over," she mumbled. "I don't know how much more I can take this."

_I don't care if we win the Inter-High._

_I don't care if we dominate in the individuals._

_I don't even care anymore._

_I just want to walk away…and forget this whole thing ever happened. All the lies, the fame…everything._

_But it's much too late for that, isn't it, Terry?_

"I'm such a fool." The hall opened up to a wide and open area, people coming and going at their own leisure. Some were hurrying to catch the starting match, while others were content to stand beneath one of the numerous television sets mounted on the walls.

Teru craned her neck back and beheld a late afternoon sun sitting upon its throne in a faded blue sky. Somewhere in Nagano the birds were cawing raucously, a white flower was blooming in the mountains, and the salmon were swimming upstream with fins that looked suspiciously like feathery, ethereal wings.

She dashed a hand across her eyes, telling herself she was just shading her eyes from the light.

_Saki…what do you think of me?_


End file.
